


A Lovable Idiot

by Chrisii



Category: The Resident (TV 2018)
Genre: Accidents, Angst, Bike Accident, Car Accidents, Conrad whump, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epic Bromance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Jargon, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 23:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14820734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrisii/pseuds/Chrisii
Summary: "His eyes were closed before the thought that he was completely vulnerable to the onslaught of traffic could even register. "In which Conrad is run over while on his way to work and causes a multi-vehicular accident. He then proceeds to help the other victims, unaware of the repercussions of his actions.Of course, things never end well when Conrad ignores his injuries, and now it's up to Devon and Nic to patch him up again.





	A Lovable Idiot

**Author's Note:**

> SET AFTER THE SERIES BUT DOES NOT SPOIL ANYTHING.

**A LOVABLE IDIOT**

Conrad never biked with earphones. He ran with music blasting in his ears, but never biked. He abides to that rule daily as he pedals to Chastain, fully aware that one tiny swerve from another car, or else a slight malfunction in the brakes, or a number of any other things, can forever change somebody's life. So he makes sure to always be aware of his surroundings even as he pushes himself to pedal harder so as to arrive to work on time.

It wouldn't do to give Devon something to tease him with, would it?

It was a pleasant surprise to see the remarkable lack of traffic on a Wednesday morning, but an inkling of fear still coiled in his gut as he noticed the cars' frantic speed. Traffic lights were the only things regulating the flow of cars that crossed the intersection, all in a hurry to get to their destinations and offering no regard to anyone other than their selves.

It wasn't abnormal for drivers to be selfish bastards, but the lack of traffic made their driving look even more chaotic than usual, and Conrad forced himself to reduce his speed so people could see him more easily.

He huffed, feeling the muscle burn in his lower leg as he made haste to cross the street while the lights were red, fully unprepared for a BMW to blow the red light with a floored gas. He didn't have time to slow down, only to fully realise what was going to happen a second before it did. The BMW connected harshly with his side, throwing him completely off his bike and onto the bonnet of the car driving parallel to him. Conrad felt the air leave his lungs as he slammed against the metal, his legs somehow ending up near the roof of the car.

He rolled, ignoring the pain that was stealing away his senses, and managed to land in front of the car, a groan escaping his throat when the car didn't immediately stop, dragging him forward a bit more. He didn't register the fact that he was currently lying in the middle of the intersection, only of the notion that the concrete was positively boiling against his bare arms and face. His eyes were closed before the thought that he was completely vulnerable to the onslaught of traffic could even register in his brain.

* * *

His lapse in consciousness must have been brief because when Conrad started to regain his senses, someone was still unclipping his helmet, rough fingers brushing against his throat. A groan echoed in his ears, and it took Conrad a few seconds to notice that it had come from his own mouth. Fingers threaded through his hair, searching for bumps and cuts, and he forced open his eyes, trying to focus on the blurred figure that kneeled beside him.

He winced as the sun hit his eyes, and the figure's attention immediately turned to him, abandoning his search through Conrad's hair as fingers grabbed his chin and angled his face towards his apparent rescuer.

"I'm Jim, I'm training to be a first aider. What's your name?" Jim was a black man, probably in his mid 20s, and seemed to be a relatively calming presence to the people who Conrad could see gathering around.

"Conrad Hawkins. I'm a doctor at Chastain. What happened?" He tried to sit up, but was promptly stopped by an arm on his shoulders and the pang of pain from his chest.

"A BMW blew a red light and hit your bike. You rolled over my car and then proceeded to collapse in the middle of the intersection, so lie still until the paramedics get here and clear you from spinal injuries. You have a minor concussion at the least, and a couple of broken ribs." Jim's tone was authoritative enough, but Conrad couldn't just lie in the middle of the street like a damsel in distress, especially given that there were no qualified medical personnel around.

"Anyone hurt?" He mentally catalogued himself even as he questioned the state of others. His head ached, but that was normal given that he had just slammed it against the concrete in a poor attempt to mimic a basketball. His side was on fire, probably where the BMW hit him, and he generally ached all over, but no major injuries that he could feel or see.

"There was a massive crash due to people suddenly braking to avoid you and my car, but I only checked on you so far. You weren't out for long; a few minutes at most. Ambulances were called but they're still a few minutes out." Jim rested on his hunches, worry oozing out of his being.

"Okay, help me up."  
"Whoa, what are you doing? You might have a spinal injury man." There were the hands on his shoulders again, attempting to push him back onto the concrete.

"I can feel all of my extremities, and other people need more help than me. They might die Jim, so either help me up or else get out of the way." Conrad pushed himself in a sitting position, allowing a few moments to pass so his ribs could quench their fire.

He reopened his eyes, unaware of when he had even closed them,and saw a hand dangling in front of his face, ready to offer assistance. Jim nodded at him mutely, even though there was still unhidden apprehension in his eyes.

"The driver's unconscious. His wife got the daughter out but she won't leave his side." Jim's voice sounded distorted, but Conrad latched to it with all his might as the world tilted on its axis due to his sudden change in altitude. Nausea brewed in his stomach, and Conrad didn't fight the hand that guided him to sit on the very bonnet that he'd rolled on (if the ugly indentation and the cracked windshield were anything to go by). The same hand found its way to the back of his neck, a silent support as Conrad carefully breathed, growing accustomed to the fiery pain of his whole right side and chasing away the dizziness.

"Did he hit his head?" He slowly stood up again, and was proud of the fact that he wasn't even swaying this time.

"No, his wife managed to hit the brakes after throwing you off your bike and t-boning me. If you hadn't been thrown off, God knows if you'd still be alive." Jim made it blatantly obvious that Conrad needed to take his injuries more seriously, but the latter avoided that as his mind immediately started to connect the dots.

"Ma'am? Can you get out and tell me what happened? I can help, I'm a doctor." Conrad put on his award-winning smile and gently pulled the hysteric brunette out of the passenger seat, ignoring the pain from his ribs as he clambered into the car and unhooked the driver's seatbelt, grateful that the wife had already pushed away the deployed airbag.

He was young, maybe in his late 30s, and seemed quite healthy. However, Conrad immediately erased the term 'healthy' when he realised that he could barely feel the guy's heartbeat. The glistening sweat caught his eye, and its coldness immediately clued him in to the diagnosis.

"Bruce said he was feeling short of breath and tired this morning, then when he was driving he - he kept mentioning how his chest hurt and then he just passed out and he hit you and we caused this whole accident and - Oh my God you're the guy he ran over!" Her shrill voice seemed to penetrate the cloud that had been shrouding Conrad's eardrums, and he was suddenly aware how her hysterics were nothing compared to the horns that he could hear blaring behind him, and that at least her words were comprehensible, even if they connoted nothing but bad news.

"Jim, open the other door and pull him out, gently. He's having a heart attack and he's going to die unless I start CPR."

Jim followed his orders mutely, and Conrad was glad for his calming presence as he heard the wife gasp behind him, seemingly folding onto herself before latching on to her child and turning her away from the traumatic sight.

"Conrad, you can't do CPR. Not with broken ribs." Jim pushed Conrad away just as the doctor kneeled next to Bruce's prone figure.

"I can and I will, or else he'll  _ **die**_. Go see if there are others in need of help. Remember; bind anything that is bleeding. If someone has any broken limbs, come get me. When the ambulance arrives direct them here immediately."

Conrad straddled the unconscious man, mutely praying to some entity to give him the ability to continue CPR, no matter how long it took or how bad the pain got. He braced his hands against the man's chest and started compressions, feeling each harsh thump resonate deep in his own chest. Tendrils of pain wrapped around his head and right side, encompassing his being in a painful throb that seemed to shut down every other sense he had. But he had to continue - Bruce would die otherwise.

Deep down, he knew that less than two minutes had passed before there was a hand on his shoulder, gently pulling him back just as a tube was shoved down Bruce's throat, an air balloon attached quickly to the top of it.

"Hey man, I need you to  _step back_  now. You did good, but we need to shock him.  _Move_."

The repeated command jarred Conrad out of his focus and the hand that wrapped around his wrists had no trouble with stilling his movements and quickly pulling him away from Bruce. The electric shock made Conrad himself jolt before he snapped out of his daze, realising that the paramedic who had pulled him back was trying to capture his attention.

"We'll get him to Chastain, he'll be fine. You saved him doc, don't worry. Come on, you can ride with us. You need to get checked out as well."

Conrad easily picked up on the tone that he usually used when patients were not 100% there, and couldn't help his scowl when he saw the worried frown on the paramedic's face. Why was everyone looking worriedly at him? He was fine, just a few bruised or broken ribs.

"Don't worry, I'm fine for now. I'm a doctor at Chastain, tell them that Conrad Hawkins is here when you get there, I'm kind of late for my shift." He pushed himself up, grateful for the hand that clutched his elbow as he stumbled slightly before righting himself.

"You won't be of any help if you collapse here. You'll just give more work to the paramedics." His tone was not fierce, only assertive, and the hand that still clutched at his aching elbow pulled at him.

"I'm not collapsing, stop pulling me or you're the one who's going to wake up in the ER. Go, I'll help a bit until the worst is over. Take the wife and the kid with you." Conrad's tone brokered no argument and he yanked his elbow out of the paramedic's grip, showing him that he did not need any help.

"Fine, I'll tell them you're here. Get checked out soon, for your own good. You have road rash on your face." The paramedics dispersed and Conrad raised a hand to tentatively prod at his face, wincing as he realised that the burning on his face was not just due to the sun, but also to several jagged cuts that were the result of his close encounter with the rough concrete.

* * *

Two hours later, Conrad could truthfully say that he missed the help of his co-workers. It felt as if he was shouldering a single shift of about five people. Despite having seen the consequences of many accidents, he was still slightly awed by how one heart attack could cause such chaos.

Apparently, when people had seen Conrad fall in the middle of the road they either suddenly stopped or else swerved, surprising the other drivers and causing an inevitable multi-vehicle accident. Although there weren't any car piles or burning fronts, the injuries were just as drastic.

Right now he was crouching beside a car, wrapping a bandage around a piece of glass embedded in the leg of a 16-year-old girl, making sure that the bleeding was staunched until another ambulance came and took them both to Chastain. He had done the best he could for the wounded, but they all needed hospital care, and he couldn't continue. Even the girl's leg was shifting in his vision.

Thankfully, Conrad had not seen any casualties. He sighed, feeling the now immensely familiar twang of pain as his ribs protested the action. Jim was suddenly by his side, taking the foot in his hands before he gently pushed Conrad to sit on the concrete, giving the doctor a much needed breather. The girl they were bandaging was quiet, obviously still in shock after having witnessed her boyfriend being taken away with a torrent of blood pouring down his face due to a piece of glass piercing his head.

The heat was suffocating, horribly increased by the metal that they were surrounded with, and Conrad could feel his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his back. The dizziness was back with a vengeance, dispelling even the pain with its intensity. Conrad released a sigh, helpless to stop his body from swaying drunkenly and almost pitching to one side had it not been for presumably Jim's hand on his shoulders, gently lying him down on the concrete and propping his legs on something. He fought to open his eyes, feeling his eyelids flutter uselessly.

Dehydration was being a bitch.

He was almost completely unconscious before blessedly cold water cascaded over his face, offering a reprieve from the heat and immediately snapping him back to his senses as someone propped him up and draped something cold on the back of his neck, making Conrad inhale harshly with relief as his consciousness returned with sharp clarity.

There was a female paramedic kneeling next to him, and a male one helping the girl to lie down on a gurney. The paramedic next to him immediately slipped a stethoscope down his shirt as Jim held a bottle of cool water against his lips, further driving back the cloud of heat as Conrad sat up on his own, dismissing the paramedic with a small wave of his hand when she started prepping his arm for an IV.

"Just drive me to Chastain, I'll get a colleague to look me over when the hassle from this accident dies down." He smiled, smoothly pulling his arm onto his lap.

"You were part of this accident as well. You need to get looked over now, especially with the dehydration you're experiencing." She apparently wasn't in the mood to deal with cocky or hard-headed patients.

"You can't force me to get treatment. I will get a colleague to look me over, but since we're horribly understaffed at the moment, I'll just wait till the chaos dies down. You seem to be a good paramedic, you know I can go a while without medical treatment with my current condition, especially if I keep drinking water to combat the dehydration." He smirked as she floundered for words, evidently trying to think of any other argument that would combat his own. When she didn't find any, she simply stood up and offered him a hand, knowing that his blood pressure would likely fluctuate when he changed altitudes after a fainting episode. Thankfully, he was able to stay on his feet once both she and Jim let go of him.

"Hey Conrad, do get checked over. I know your type, and you really need to get those ribs bound at the very least." Jim reached out, a small smile pulling at his lips as they shook hands.

"I will, stop worrying Jim. Here, this is my card. Call me when you can, all right? I'd like to help you get your first aid licence, even if you don't need it." He grinned at the soon-to-be first aider when Jim blushed, clearly happy with the subtle praise as he nodded mutely.

Conrad nodded at him in a silent goodbye before climbing in the back of the ambulance, hiding the wince as his pain made itself known with each bump in the road. The water bottle in his hand was a welcome distraction, and Conrad just focused on emptying it as the male paramedic hooked the 16-year-old to the monitors and then turned to him, an antiseptic wipe in his hand.

Conrad let the man clean his face, the alcoholic wipe leaving a stinging sensation as the paramedic made sure to remove the dirt that had stuck to the wounds.

"Well, you don't need stitches. Keep it clean, I'm pretty sure you know the drill." The paramedic threw away the wipes and gloves before donning new ones as the monitors started shrilling the second that they arrived at the hospital, providing a golden opportunity for Conrad to lose himself in the chaos of it all as he dismissed the paramedics and ushered the now unconscious girl to a miraculously empty bay.

She was going into shock due to the glass still embedded in her thigh and he set to work, pushing all of his injuries to the back of his mind as he focused on the patient in front of him.

* * *

An unknown amount of time later, Conrad stood in the middle of the warzone that was the ER, grateful for the significant lack of painful cries and realising that his shirt, previously dark blue, was now ruined with blood.

The adrenaline oozed steadily out of his system, leaving behind a sea of pain and aches and an ever so annoying light-headedness that he couldn't swim away from.

Devon was suddenly beside him, the intern pulling him to the side and running critical eyes up and down his frame. It made Conrad feel self-consciously exposed, but he was not about to let the younger man know that.

"So, did you survive without me this morning?" God, his voice sounded awfully hoarse. Devon immediately picked up on it and shoved the bottle of water he had been about to drink in his hands instead.

"I did, but you apparently didn't. Come on, let me check you out." Devon didn't dare touch him, noticing immediately that Conrad was still reeling from the events that had transpired, and that he wouldn't be comfortable with physical proximity and/or touch just yet.

Conrad couldn't help but wonder when it became so easy for Pravesh to read him.

Conrad's response was cut off when a whirlwind jumped into his arms, latching to his upper body with limbs resembling the tentacles of an octopus. The fire that ignited from his broken ribs was enough to send Conrad careening backwards, and he was thankful for Devon's subtle support. It was enough to keep Conrad standing while he wrapped his arms around the sobbing girl as she clutched to him.

The water bottle went to the floor, thankfully still closed.

"Hey kid, what happened?" He used his softest voice, thankful when the girl hiccupped, her tears ceasing.

"You saved my daddy! Mummy said to say thank you to the nice doctor." She leaned back, wide blue eyes red-rimmed and half hidden behind a curtain of blonde hair as she grinned at him.

"Oh, I did? And who's your daddy huh?" He smiled, shifting the girl to his other side so that he could at least breathe.

"His name is Bruce! Mummy said he hurt his heart, and that we can see him as soon as the doctor said it is okay. You're a doctor, you can say the okay, right?"

Bruce, the guy who caused the accident and the same guy who Conrad had performed CPR on until the ambulance arrived. He was grateful that the girl had escaped unscathed from the accident, and couldn't help but wonder where her mother was. The pain flared, stealing his breath as Devon's hand found its way to the small of his back, supporting the trembling muscles.

"Dr. Hawkins! I'm so sorry, she ran while I was talking to the doctor. I don't know how she found you. The nice nurse over there directed me here, I hope Lily wasn't an inconvenience." Her mother suddenly appeared, looking slightly more composed than she had been at the scene of the accident many hours ago.

"It's okay ma'am, she's a nice girl. How is your husband?" The nice nurse happened to be Nic, who was pretending to be occupied with the computer.

"He'll be okay, thanks to you. I was about to go see him. We'll be forever in your debt Doctor, thank you so much!" The woman grinned widely, even if she still seemed exhausted by the day's events. Conrad couldn't blame her.

"It's my job, no need to thank me. Hear that Lily? You can see your daddy now!" He grinned at the little girl who shrieked in delight before jumping out of his arms, kicking his injured side and stealing all of his breath again in one second.

"Thanks again Dr. Hawkins." The mother smiled at him as she dragged Lily away, clearly scolding her for running away without telling her mother where she was going.

"Conrad, you with me?" Devon was suddenly in front of him, one hand on his neck and the other on his shoulder. What was it with people grasping his shoulder today? It wasn't like he was going to keel over.

Except, the ground was moving underneath his feet, clearly trying to tip him over. Now that the adrenaline had disappeared from his system, the pain and dizziness were even more prominent, stealing his breath away as they demanded him to take care of his injuries.

His chest screamed, still flaring from the girl's weight, and he felt nauseous as he realised just how much pain his body was in. How had he not realised sooner? And why couldn't he breathe properly? Just a simple inhale, exhale. The air got caught in his throat, nearly choking him.

"Conrad? Nic get me a gurney!" Devon's voice echoed briefly in his ears, and he was barely aware of his knees suddenly giving out, only of the hands that stopped him from painfully connecting with the floor again.

He shivered. Why was it so cold? It wasn't cold, it was boiling.

The darkness was comforting, much less painful than the suddenly chaotic world around him. He could hear the thumping of feet on the ground, all of them sending vibrations through his head and further igniting the pain. There were hands all over him, poking his neck, tearing away his shirt, and a needle pricking his elbow, and another one.

The darkness was beckoning him now and he welcomed it, happy to escape the shouts and the mayhem of the living world.

He wished that the 'Conrad' they were yelling for would answer already, maybe then he'd have some peace and quiet.

He felt his eyes roll back into his head as he fell asleep, and briefly heard all hell break loose before there was nothing but darkness.

* * *

"I can't get a line in, he's too dehydrated. Let's get him to a room, now! Someone get me a bowl of cool water and a sponge. Get a gown as well." Devon carded his fingers through the blond hair, trying to determine if Conrad's unconsciousness was due to a head injury or something else entirely.

"A sponge?" Nic's confusion was clear in her tone as she kneeled on Conrad's other side, helping Devon pull away the remnants of the t-shirt that Conrad had been wearing.

"It's the best to rinse out road rash, and it might cool him down. He's sunburned and dehydrated. Also has broken ribs, and a minor concussion. I think the helmet saved him from further damage." Devon moved back as Irving arrived with a gurney, for once not commenting as he lowered it to the ground and helped Devon roll Conrad on top of it. The resident didn't even flinch, only groaned as his ribs were jostled by the movement.

"We need to send him for an X-ray, check for possible spinal injuries." Irving said as they turned the gurney to push it into a room. Devon was glad to see everything he had asked for laying on the table beside the bed.

"Don't transfer him to the bed yet, let's cut everything off and rinse his road rash first so we don't have to move him again to get dry linen. Get him on the monitors, and put him on an oxygen mask for now. Nic, try to get a line in his left hand, the road rash is mainly focused on his right. How the hell did he fall?"

"According to the paramedic he caught a ride with, Conrad was mostly passed out with dehydration when they arrived on scene. He got up again when they doused him with cold water and let him drink, but a first-aider that happened to be on scene told her that Conrad had been thrown over his bonnet from his bike. He instigated the whole accident, kind of." Irving narrated hurriedly as he gently sponged Conrad's face, even if the lacerations on his forehead and cheek appeared to be remarkably clean. He quickly moved to the other's feet, checking his body's reaction and releasing a sigh of relief when Conrad showed no signs of paralysis.

"When did you have time to hear all that?" Devon's voice was low as he focused on cleaning all the abrasions on Conrad's arm, squeezing water all over the elbow before dragging the sponge over the worst of it. He couldn't help but wonder how Conrad had worked through the burn that Devon could feel radiating from the cuts, even if they weren't infected.

"The paramedic that gave him the ride stayed a bit and made sure to relay the information to a doctor so that, and I quote, 'that arrogant bastard can get treated and we won't have to pick him up from a gutter'." Irving shrugged as they gently turned Conrad on his side, making sure to keep his head and neck immobile while checking for any signs of road rash on his back. Nothing but bruises thankfully.

"Nic, did you get a line in?" He received a nod of affirmation as the nurse hung a litre of saline on the rack beside the bed. "Okay, let's transfer him. How are his stats?" Irving scampered to the other side of the bed, grasping the sheet securely as they tried to lower him as gently as possible.

Conrad didn't react in the slightest.

"Blood pressure's a bit low, weak but rapid heartbeat, slightly high temperature." Nic listed off as Devon pulled down Conrad's briefs, making sure to keep everything covered and checking the extensive bruising that extended from his ribs to the middle of his thighs.

"Heat-exhaustion?" He questioned Irving, barely believing the idea that Conrad managed to still work. Adrenaline really could make you do remarkable things.

"There are no ACs in the ER because of the possibility of patients in shock, and prior to the ER he was in the sun. Get the ice compressors and a cold towel. It's very mild, we can easily keep it under control given that he doesn't go into shock and we manage his dehydration." Irving ordered Nic as Devon ran his stethoscope over Conrad's chest, inwardly marvelling at the myriad of colours that decorated his side; blue, purple, and red splotches splattered as if someone had flicked a paintbrush, staining the canvas with the three colours in no particular pattern but still leaving behind an indication of one. He was glad to note that neither lung appeared to be compromised.

"His pupils are sluggish, minor concussion at the most." Irving said as they waited for the icepacks, and Devon couldn't help but let his eyes wander over his mentor.

Conrad was out cold, head slightly angled back on the pillow and exposing his flushed neck. His cracked lips were parted, mostly hidden behind the fogged up oxygen mask. They needed to cool him down pronto, or his breathing was not going to improve. The road rash that travelled down his right side was not very serious, only immensely irritating to take care of. No, what shocked Devon the most was Conrad's stillness. He had never seen Conrad's hand still, not for a second. The other was always moving his hands; either scratching, twisting his ring, or tapping on his knees.

"Let's wrap his ribs, it's better if we stabilise them as soon as possible." Irving nodded and slid his hands beneath Conrad's shoulders to ease him upwards, allowing Devon to wrap a tight bandage around his torso and hide most of the bruising from sight.

"4 compressors and a towel enough?" Nic slipped back in the room, dumping her load onto the bed and quickly winding the towel around Conrad's neck, making sure to cover his jugular artery without making him feel choked. A sigh of relief escaped Conrad at the cooling sensation, and Devon nodded mutely as he grabbed two of the compressors and efficiently placed them on Conrad's groin, letting Irving place the other two underneath Hawkins' arms.

Conrad flinched, his eyes rolling beneath their lids as the coldness assaulted his overheated body, offering both relief and confusion. A hybrid of a groan and a growl tore from his throat as he moved, jostling his ribs, and Devon easily pinned him down.

"It's okay Conrad, you're safe. They're just ice-packs, you need to cool down. It's okay." His voice seemed to soothe the veteran, and Devon him relax as Conrad lost consciousness once again. "Remove his ring, get him to the MRI, and keep me updated. Leave his pager near in case he wakes up, I'll admit him."

* * *

Nicolette Nevin still questioned what lengths she would go to for one Conrad Hawkins. It was Friday, and for once her shift was only till 3pm; giving her ample time to go home, rest, and then go out to some club and get wasted.

But no.

The one time she has time to get home early, she had changed out of her uniform and slipped into Conrad's room, curling up on the solitary chair that resided on the left side of his bed. Once settled, Nic squinted at the monitors, relieved to see that Conrad's stats were in the normal range for an adult man.

She averted her gaze from the monitors to his face, soaking in the serene expression that she rarely ever saw on his features nowadays. Devon had switched the breathing mask with a nasal cannula, and the towels and ice compressors were replaced by a gown that was way too large on Conrad's frame.

A sheet was drawn up to his chest, and she couldn't help but smile when she realised that one of Conrad's hands rested on his stomach instead of at his side; signifying that at some time he had slipped into a natural sleep rather than unconsciousness.

Nic frowned as she saw the sunburn that coloured the high cheek bones and his nose, evidence of his impromptu first-aid moments. She stood up, making sure not to wake him up as she turned his head to the side, glad to note that at least the back of his neck wasn't burned somehow.

Making up her mind, she slipped from the room to pick up after-sun lotion, hoping to at least alleviate some of the pain he was feeling.

Broken ribs were a bitch on their own, let alone coupled with sunburn and road rash. At least his MRIs and X-rays had come back clear, diminishing any doubts that he had any type of internal, brain, or spinal injuries. She thanked God for small mercies as she rubbed the ointment in his cheeks, trying to be as gentle as possible.

Once again, she was drawn to his face. He was handsome; it was one of the reasons she was attracted to him. His lips were slightly parted, and the shadow of his beard was blanketed by the road-rash on one side, giving him an even more rogue look than before. For once there wasn't any tension on his features, leaving behind an untroubled face of a man that was still too young for all the atrocities that he had faced.

Part of her just wanted to wrap him in a cocoon of blankets and never let him go.

Another part of her wanted to be angry for his guarded nature, his refusal to make himself vulnerable in front of her.

But mostly, she just wanted him to feel safe in their friendship at least -be assured of the fact that she wasn't going to up and leave him like many had done before.

She realised that she was cupping his face, and couldn't help but caress his cheek with her thumb, reminiscing of times long gone when she used to do such a thing in the morning when he was still asleep, untroubled by the nightmares that had plagued him for years after Afghanistan.

She knew that they still occurred every now and then.

Taking advantage of the fact that he was still asleep, Nic threaded a hand through his locks - dislodging the debris stuck in the curls - and flinched as she came across the bump on the back of his head.

She wasn't the only one who flinched. Conrad's eyes fluttered open, flickering across the room aimlessly before they settled on her. And remained blank.

"Conrad?" His MRIs were clear. Mild concussions didn't cause memory loss as far as she knew, though the dehydration could disorient him a bit, even if the IV fluids had easily combated it.

He remained quiet, just staring at her, carefully breathing and cataloguing his injuries. She stepped back, giving him time to place himself as he frowned at the room -particularly the empty table-, still abnormally quiet.

"Thirsty." The single word was croaked, and Nic nearly face palmed at her failure to guess what he needed. He was treated for dehydration, and they had forgotten to place a jug of water in the room.

"I'll page Devon, he'll bring you one of those sports drink you love so much." She texted the other while she spoke, still frowning at his stillness. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a BMW." The shadow of a smile appeared on his features as she rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Nic." His assurance fell short as he coughed, choking on his dry throat and immediately curled on his left side, the broken ribs protesting the movement and assaulting him with their own kind of pain.

His eyes watered and Nic shot forward again, turning him on his back and raising the bed a bit so that he could breathe easier while still lying down. She was debating pressing the oxygen mask on his face again before Devon burst in, evidently spurred by the jerking figure on the bed.

"What happened?" Devon threw the bottle on the table, removing his stethoscope within the same movement and promptly lying the cold metal against Conrad's chest.

Conrad smirked mutely as he regained his breath, clearly forcing himself to stay still while Devon checked his reflexes - "It's just a precaution, Conrad"-, then palpated his ribs, making him swear quietly as the bruises flared, and finally shone a penlight in his eyes, forcing him to close his eyes and swat at the offending object with his left arm. His right was still aching too much to be moved unnecessarily.

"It's a minor concussion, don't be a drama queen. Drink up, you've still got to replenish a bit more fluids. How are you feeling?" Despite his mocking, Devon's worry was present in the way that he pushed the sheet up to Conrad's chest again.

"I'm fine." Conrad's voice was hoarse, and he seemed to be making a huge effort to not sway; dizziness still plagued him.

"Your definition of fine is two broken ribs, one cracked, bruises from armpit to mid-thigh, road-rash on your face and arm, a minor concussion, and lasting effects of dehydration and heat exhaustion? Wow man, I really need to double check the patients you discharge." Nic pressed the sports drink in Conrad's hand, visibly ready to help him drink if his hand started shaking too much.

"Speaking of, how are the patients?" Conrad relished the drink as it quenched his thirst, but was still careful of his evidently queasy stomach.

"The man you saved is fine, recovering nicely in the ICU. There were no casualties, just a few deep and/or internal injuries. You and the driver are the worst off really." Devon said, frowning as Conrad squinted slightly.

"Well, we were kind of in the middle of it." Conrad shrugged, immediately regretting the action as tendrils of fire wrapped around his side and uncoiled in his head, reminding him of the pleasantness of having a concussion, no matter how mild.

"Yeah, so now you're not moving your ass from this bed unless we discharge you, and even then you're not staying alone." Nic took the drink back just as Conrad started tapping a rhythm on the bottle.

"That being said, when can I get out of here?" The slur that Conrad heard in his own voice almost made him cringe, but he couldn't battle exhaustion anymore.

"Just rest for now. If the dehydration and your concussion clear up, I'll discharge you tonight. And don't pretend that your head's not aching, you're still squinting." Devon's pager beeped. "Just get some rest, I'll see you later."

"You heard what the doctor said, I'll stay here unless you have a visitor, don't worry." Nic smiled, soothing back his hair gently until he completely passed out.

* * *

Mina had seen Conrad dozing many times, but she had never seen him sleeping. When dozing, his features didn't relax, usually remaining tight and worried; most likely about some particular patient. Now, there were no lines around his eyes, leaving behind a boyish and terribly young face for all the stories that she had heard about his past.

Nic smiled as she saw Mina, and quickly excused herself to get a bite to eat once she realised that Conrad wouldn't be alone for a while.

Mina didn't like a lot of people, but Conrad was a person that she considered very close to her heart. He had managed to wedge himself in the 'big brother' role in her life, a role that she had longed for someone to fill ever since coming alone to America. It had taken a while for her to get used to his antics, but she had quickly adapted to his quirks once she realised that he would do anything to see his friends happy.

He had secured his place in that role after her first break-up, when he had forced her to go out with him for a dinner and drinks. They had gotten so hammered that she still couldn't remember anything that happened that night.

She never regretted it though.

"What are you thinking about Mina?" His voice, albeit gravelly, was still humorous.

"That time when we went out for drinks and you got me drunk off my ass." She smiled as he snorted, even if his chuckle was cut short by the protest of the road-rash on his face.

"Now that was a great night out." He said as he removed the cannula from his face.

"You know you need that." She pointed out in vain.

"I'm a doctor, Mina." He huffed as he sat up, crossing his legs under the sheets.

"Yet you sought no treatment up until you passed out." She raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning his logic.

"The girl slammed into my ribs, the whole world's treatment wouldn't have prevented me from passing out." He excused himself, or attempted to.

"You are aware that you have a mild concussion, yes? Apart from the now treated heat exhaustion brought on by dehydration? A kid didn't do that by slamming into your ribs." She pursued her lips as he frowned. "You're an idiot. But thankfully Devon and Nic patched you up, quite well if you ask me. The girl came to visit as well." She inclined her head towards his arm, and Conrad realised that there was a bright pink, Barbie themed plaster near the needle of the IV.

"I never thought pink was my colour."

Mina grinned as she saw the red tint that swept his cheeks.

"Sure it is. Jim also came by. He expressed his gratitude for your help, and said hello as well. Seems like you did some good while almost killing yourself this morning." She shook her head, still expressing her exasperation at his reckless behaviour even as she shoved the sports drink in his hands, a glare easily manipulating him into swallowing a few mouthfuls despite his queasy stomach.

"I always do good, Mina. Unless you count landing people in the hospital due to an accident. Even I lapse sometimes." His guilt shone through as he leaned back against the pillow behind him, straightening his legs again.

"Do  _yourself_  some good and rest, you'll probably get discharged tonight. And Conrad, what happened isn't your fault. Regardless if you were there or not, Bruce would still have had a heart attack and caused an accident. " Mina gently squeezed his shoulder, letting the small touch convey her wish for him to get better - both physically and mentally.

"I think I rested enough." Conrad threw his head back, inhaling carefully and clearly managing to not hurt himself. He didn't say anything more about blaming himself.

"Yet your eyes are drooping. Dehydration takes a lot out of you Conrad, you know that. Take care of yourself idiot. Who's going to keep Bell in line otherwise?"

"I'm not an idiot." His mock indignation reminded her of a little boy that she used to babysit back in Nigeria, a boy who had wormed his way into her heart up until he died because his mother couldn't afford to take him to the hospital. Turns out pneumonia really took it out of a kid when he had no antibiotics.

"Yes, you are. But thankfully, you're a lovable idiot. Sleep, Conrad." Mina looped the cannula around his ears again, making sure that it wasn't chaffing his road rash before smoothing his hair back, smiling at his contented expression as his features slowly smoothed out again in sleep.

Nic came back, and Mina bid her a good night before she left.

* * *

"You know, Jim dropped off your bike. It's going to remain in the parking lot at least till tomorrow. I have no space for it in my car." Nic said as Conrad zipped up his hoodie.

"Hopefully nobody is so desperate as to steal a bike." Conrad said, resisting the urge to scratch at the road rash on his face.

"Don't worry, you'll have time to buy another one while those ribs heal." Nic huffed as she slid on Conrad's shoes, knowing that he wouldn't be able to bend down properly.

"I have to use the train to get to work. Isn't that a tragedy?" Conrad mock sobbed, cutting his dramatics short when his ribs protested the heave of his chest.

"I'd say it's better than causing a multiple vehicle accident and ending up in a hospital bed yourself. What do you think, Nic?" Devon appeared at the doorway, not giving time for Conrad to react before he was sliding the stethoscope underneath his hoodie. "Don't breathe shallowly Conrad, or you'll end up in here again with pneumonia. Have you been drinking?"

"Yes, I emptied the jug of water you left here  _and_  the energy drink you bought for me. I'll do my breathing exercises, and I'll clean the road rash regularly so it doesn't get infected. Anything else?"

"These are for the pain; take one every six hours, preferably after eating something, and don't take more. Also, keep moisturising those burns on your face." Devon shone the penlight in Conrad's eyes, making the other doctor flinch as his headache flared, even if his concussion had ebbed away.

"You do know I'm a doctor as well, right?" Conrad raised an eyebrow, but his cockiness was ruined by a faint grimace.

"Yes, and I also know you do your best to evade treatment until you're quite literally falling on your face." Devon said, to which Nic chuckled as Conrad shut his mouth. "Here, fill this. I'll just grab your stuff from your locker and then we're taking you home."

"I won't die on my own." Conrad's words only reached Nic's ears.

"Well, it's better to be safe than sorry, isn't it?" Nic smiled innocently as Conrad huffed, unwilling to fight an already lost battle.

He mutely accepted the pills that Nic handed him, along with a bottle of water, and they both sat waiting for Devon's return.

Nobody commented on their linked hands.

* * *

Conrad fell asleep in the car, and Devon didn't have the heart to wake him even if he had to. As strong as he was, he couldn't carry his mentor up three flights of stairs on his own, especially with Conrad's broken ribs.

Conrad didn't protest against the fact that he was practically draped over Devon, his left arm securely held around Devon's shoulder as Pravesh manhandled him up the stairs.

Due to being under the influence of pain medication, Conrad wasn't much help. However, at least he could still keep his feet underneath him for most of the journey. Devon was glad that Nic anticipated Conrad's knees giving out the first time, or else they would have tumbled down the stairs and ended up in the hospital, again.

Devon ignored the hasty apology that Conrad huffed out, even if was more than happy to dump Conrad on the couch once they arrived. Gently of course. Nic dropped the groceries that they had bought on the counter, but Devon paid her no heed. Conrad was sweating and trembling on the couch, clearly in pain. Devon unzipped the hoodie, sliding it off Conrad's upper body before running his hands over the bandages that secured his ribs -being mindful of the bruises-, yet still making sure that his ribs had not shifted.

"Conrad, can you hear me?" Devon patted Conrad's cheek, gaining the doctor's attention as deep brown, half-lidded eyes met his own, clearly dilated with the pain medication.

"Yeah. Water." The two words were easily decipherable, and Nic appeared at Devon's elbow immediately, one hand snaking its way to Conrad's neck while the other tipped a glass of water into his mouth.

Conrad turned his head after a few mouthfuls, a clear indication that he had quenched his thirst. Devon was glad to note that his trembling had died down and he was breathing easily now. Well, as easily as he could.

"Don't fall asleep yet, let's get you to the bed first, then you can rest." Devon pulled Conrad away from the sofa, sliding underneath his arm just in time to catch a clearly tired Hawkins as they staggered to the bed.

Nic was already there, pulling back the covers and fluffing his pillows. Devon couldn't help but snort as Conrad grinned; a full-on smile that buried his eyes in laugh-lines before he quite literally crawled into his bed, sinking into the mattress. Devon only had time to hastily pull off Conrad's shoes before the veteran buried himself under the blankets, offering a slurred, barely audible 'thank you' before he slid into the realm of sleep in less than 2 seconds.

"Well, that didn't take long." Devon commented.

"Yeah, we'll just check on him during the night and make sure he remains this calm. I don't know what he's going to do once he realises he has about a month of lying around." Nic whispered as she slid from the bed.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. If anything, Priya will keep him company. She's been begging to meet him for ages now."Devon shrugged, subtly fussing over the blanket before the both of them left the room.

"God save her if her first impression is a bored Conrad. But he'll be tolerable as long as he finds something to do. Anyway, I'm starving. I'm going to put pasta on, do you want some?" Nic made her way to the kitchen, evidently knowing her way around the place.

"Yeah, thanks Nic." Devon got his phone, shooting a text to Priya to tell her that they had arrived safely at Conrad's place and that he would most likely stay the night.

"No problem. He'll be fine you know, this isn't his first accident." Nic's smile was evident in her tone, despite the grim topic that she was speaking about.

"Yeah, but it's still weird to see him like this."

"Yeah, it takes a bit getting used to. But he'll bounce back soon enough."

A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only when Nic turned on the television and left it running on some medical drama.

* * *

"You're late."

Conrad's voice echoed in the hospital corridor 2 months later. Devon startled, dropping the clipboard that he was pouring over and thanking whatever entity was above that he had not been carrying a tablet.

"You're back." He turned, greeting his mentor with a grin and a handshake. It was nice to see Conrad with something to do again apart from almost driving himself mad in his home.

"I am, and I have an interesting case that I can't quite wrap my head around. Let's go." Conrad strode in front of him, fully expecting Devon to catch up with him.

Just another normal day at Chastain.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Long time no see, or read, I guess XD
> 
> So sorry I've been off the grid, exams really took it out of me and this one shot is my way of trying to crawl back into writing. I also joined a blog on tumblr, called bad things happen Bingo, which practically gives you prompts to work with. This is the first result out of it!
> 
> Anyway, since I'm trying to get my footing again, I probably missed a few mistakes and it's not up to my usual standard, but please, feel free to criticise and I will do my best to reply to all of you :)
> 
> I hope you liked this story, and stay tuned for more!
> 
> PS: I will be writing for hopefully a variety of fandoms, including The Alienist and I think Grimm :)
> 
> -Chrisii
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Resident, never will, and am not making any profits with this.


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